


Partners

by Macadamanaity



Category: Boston Legal, Ocean's Eleven (2001)
Genre: Crossover, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-29
Updated: 2009-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macadamanaity/pseuds/Macadamanaity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What can I do for you, Mr. Ocean? Criminal charges to beat? Assets to hide? Divorce to fight out?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apatheia_Jane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apatheia_Jane/gifts).



> This was written before the state laws around same sex marriage in the US got particularly complicated. Marriage had not been made legal and then illegal again in California, nor was it legal in Iowa or a number of other places where it is now legal. In short: do not rely on any statement of law in this fic as it is both dated and also partially made up.

“Denny Crane.”

“Danny Ocean.”

“Denny Crane.”

“By all means.”

The two men stared at each other for some time, Danny smiling kindly and Denny in challenge.

Then,

“What can I do for you, Mr. Ocean? Criminal charges to beat? Assets to hide? Divorce to fight out?”

Danny looked faintly embarrassed.

“I’m already divorced, but I assume you are familiar with my… business.”

“Reuben and I go way back. He introduced me to my third wife and I defended him on those federal charges. What has he gotten up to, these days?”

“He’s got his finger in Internet gambling, mostly. Apparently he took a shine to online poker while he was recovering last year.”

“Ah. The Internets. Silly fad. Figure it’ll run its course any day now.”

“Of course. However, he recommended you as the best, and so I’ve come here with a problem.” Denny preened under the flattery and gestured for the man in the tuxedo to continue.

“I need to get married.”

“And you need me to write the prenup?”

“No, I need to get married… to my best friend.”

“Congratulations, man. I mean, I can’t say I think being friends with your wife is the best idea: what if she thinks she’s your equal in the relationship? But to each his own…”

“No, he’s a man. Rusty. That’s the problem.”

Denny blinked.

“This is Massachusetts. You buggerers already rigged the courts here. You don’t need a lawyer to make your perversions official.”

At this point Alan stuck his head into the room.

“The Massachusetts law only allows two persons of the same sex to marry if they are both residents of the state or another state where such a marriage would be legal.”

“Exactly.” Danny and Alan shook hands, and Danny remained standing. “We’re not really interested in making a big stink for gay rights.” He started pacing by the window. “But, I’ve had a hunch lately that we’re going to need some… marital privilege."Denny looked scandalized.

“Please man, what you do in your bedroom is your own business! The reason the Supreme Court protected it under privacy was that so we’d not have to hear about it!”

Alan laughed.

“I think, Denny, he’s referring to the right not to testify against one’s spouse.”

Danny smiled brilliantly.

“Bingo.”

“Well, Mr. Ocean. Assuming that discretion is something that you value and that you’ve ruled out becoming residents of the fine state of Massachusetts, I would say your best bet right now would be to forego the courts, and instead marry in Canada.  You do maintain a residence in New York, correct? For the time being, Canadian marriages are being recognized in New York State as valid, so at minimum, under New York jurisdiction your privilege _might_ remain valid.” Alan shrugged apologetically. “Unfortunately, you’d still have to file separate federal tax returns because of DOMA.”

Denny laughed.

“Oh, that’ll be repealed when Shillary uses her witch powers to steal the election for queers and feminazis everywhere.”

Alan and Danny stared at him for a moment, exchanged a glance, and continued on as if nothing had been said, or would have had there not been a knock at the door.

Rusty Ryan chose that moment to enter the office, and all eyes were drawn to his purple and acid-green checkered, wide-collared shirt. At least, that’s where they would all swear in court their eyes were.

“Gentlemen. Daniel.” He strode confidently into the room, past the two lawyers, and to his partner by the balcony. And kissed him.

It was a long kiss, and not terribly chaste. They may have even bumped Denny’s desk a bit as Rusty’s body pushed into Danny’s a bit frantically.

When they pulled apart, their mouths were open, panting a bit, and Denny and Alan’s were so in shock.

Danny recovered first.

“I take it the investigation was called off?”

Rusty gave him a bright smile.

“Saul.”

“Oh he?”

“Also there was.”

“Well, good for her.”

Denny and Alan exchanged glances. Danny turned to them.

“Mr. Crane. Mr. Shore. I thank you for your time. It seems we will no longer be requiring your services.”

Denny grunted, and refused to take the hand that was proffered, mumbling about catching the gay. Alan did so, and led the two men out of the room, directing them toward the lobby.

Once they were in the elevator, Rusty gave Danny a long look out of the corner of his eye. Danny’s mouth twitched as if holding back a smile.

“I think the shirt alone would have been sufficient. I mean, it does render all who look directly at it blind.”

“I thought they’d appreciate the show. You know, as compensation. And besides, it worked. You got it.”

“I already _had_ it. You were just the exit strategy, remember?”

“Well, while you were busy being ravished, I got the one she requested for the bonus.”

“While _you_ were busy ravishing, I got one she didn’t even know was there.”

They smirked at each other. The doors opened. An older, regal woman faced them.

“So?”

“It’s done. You want them?”

She laughed.

“Hardly. You know a good antique gun dealer?”

“I know a guy who knows a guy.”

“Unload them for a fair price and you can have an extra ten percent.”

“Thanks Shirley. And remember, next time you’re in Vegas…”

“I always do, boys.” And with that, she pinched Rusty’s cheek, took their place in the elevator and winked as the door closed.


End file.
